Pinky Promises
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: Charlene and Erika band together to combat one Sebrina Shaw.:.Genderbent AU; every character is of the opposite gender. Same plot and ages as First Class film, however, with a twist on the scenes. Cherik femslash. Rated T for various content, implied sex.
1. I

**A/N: An utterly AU genderbending plot-bunny that would not leave me to rest, even as I was lying awake in bed, trying to sleep. So here it is. XD**

**Cherik femslash. Rated M for various content, but no direct sex. AU, but with similar plot and scenes as First-Class film, albeit rewritten for an entirely genderbent cast, every character included.**

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><p><em><strong>I.<strong>_

Charlene meets the other girl when she is about to die.

Not Charlene herself, of course; the stranger, the other girl, is the one dying. She is stubborn and strong-willed, and after revenge. Charlene senses her, and can't sit by and watch idly as this stranger nearly drowns.

So Charlene does what she can: she hastily strips off her pea coat and slides off her heels, and then dives right off the CIA ship and into the chilly water.

The girl, Charlene discovers as she connects minds and starts to project thoughts to her, is named Erika. Erika Lehnsherr, an only child, a World War II Holocaust victim, and a very callous, angry young girl of twenty-eight, merely two years older than Charlene herself.

_Erika, please! Calm your mind. Listen to me, Erika… you need to let go of that submarine and calm. You. Mind. I'm here now, and I've got you. You are quite safe with me, but you need to heed my warning: you will drown unless you release that water vessel._

Erika lets out something akin to a roar, but does as she's told. The second the magnetic force from her hand is disconnected, she's dragged upward by Charlene's caring arms and together, they break the water's surface, treading water.

"Get off me; I said, get _off _of me!" Erika screeches, and she shoves Charlene away. She gasps for breath, choking a bit with a sputtering cough, and then looks at Charlene in the beam of the spotlight from the boat above them. "Who… Who are you? You – You were in my _head! _How the Hell did you do that?"

"Erika, I'm like you! But please, you still aren't calm! Relax. You're in good hands, now." And Charlene offers a warm, comforting smile, her baby blue eyes twinkling.

Erika gasps, still forcing out water, and she slowly exhales, her legs kicking furiously beneath the water. She calms herself, then says in a gentler, quieter voice, "I thought I was alone. I thought no one else could do weird things like I can."

Charlene is genuinely smiling now. "You're not alone, Erika. There are plenty of people like us in the world, plenty of _mutants."_ She doesn't miss how the metal-bending girl across from her repeats the word with her lips but without sound, awe in her grey-green-blue (what the artist's term, Charlene tries to recall? _Glasz_?) eyes.

They are hauled back up onto the ship and given blankets, since there are no dry, clean clothes on board, and Erika's black wetsuit appears to be too stuck onto every curve of her body to be pried off, anyhow. They shiver and sit together in a cabin below deck, away from agent Mark McTaggert's watchful eyes, or anyone else's, for that matter.

"Proper introductions are in order, I believe," the rescuer of the two begins. "My name is Charlene Xavier, a graduated professor from Oxford University in the field of genetic mutations. I, like you, am a mutant, and my gift is telepathy." She holds out a hand to shake.

"Erika Lehnsherr," the other girl introduces with a boyish grunt. She leans back on the cot they're perched on and hugs her blanket tighter around herself, rejecting Charlene's proffered hand. "But I bet you already knew that, huh, Telepath?"

Charlene chuckles, not offended in the slightest. "Yes, I did delve deeply enough into your mind there in the water to learn a few things about you. Your name, your place of origin, your ability – metal bending through magnetism; quite impressive, I must say – and a few… other things."

"Like _what, _exactly?" Erika spits back, not moving because she is shivering and cold, but very eager to get out of this conversation. No one is supposed to know about her; no one can know that she is going after Sebrina Shaw, that she is out to avenge her father, nor that she has the history she does, and has done the things she has. _No one. _

Charlene clears her throat and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Erika. I didn't mean to pry or make you go on the defense. I only know vague things, not specifics. But know this: you are among friends now, chiefly me. I am here to help you, because I am working with the CIA to help capture that woman you were after. I am a fellow mutant, and I want what's best for people like us." She smiles, and offers her pinky finger this time. "I promise you that nothing will become of you, and that I am not here to be an enemy."

Hesitantly – Erika hasn't made a pinky-promise since she was eight, before the War, and definitely hasn't willingly touched another person is nearly as long – the metal bending young woman reaches out her hand from under her blanket. She extends her pinky, and slowly links it with Charlene's. It feels childish and odd, but somewhat comforting.

The telepath gives a cheerful smile and tightens her grip reassuringly on Erika's finger. "And I promise that, with me, you never need to be alone again."


	2. II

_**II.**_

Erika grabs hold of Shaw's case file and is heading out the door when she hears the click of heels tagging along after her.

"And where are you headed, Erika?" Charlene says casually as she stops a few feet behind the other mutant. Raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow, she folds her arms over her C-cup breasts.

Erika swallows, and slowly turns around, her face deadpanned. "I'm going after Sebrina Shaw, Charlene. And you can't stop me."

"On the contrary, I very much _could_ stop you, if I liked," the telepath counters smoothly as she frees a hand and glances down at it to look at her shiny, colorless manicure. "However," she adds, peering up from under her lashes in the moonlight to meet Erika's stern gaze, "I won't stop you. From what I know about you, it's a miracle you've stayed this long."

"…I thought the sole things you knew about me were vague," Erika growls, her eyes narrowing. She tosses her shoulder-length brown hair and clutches the briefcase in her hands even tighter.

Charlene looks guilty. "I'm sorry, my friend, but I made a white lie. I know everything. I… I have _felt _your agony, how you were raped by a Nazi guard because you were pretty, how you had to watch your father die before your eyes because you couldn't move a coin, and I know all too well every bright and dark part of your past, every light and dim thought that has crossed your mind from the short moments I was in it."

Erika tenses, her glare fierce. "If you know all that, then you know to leave me be. This is my fight, my battle to take on, and I don't need people like you or the government hounding after me."

"That is the last thing I want for you, Erika," the telepath replies delicately. She takes a step forward. "I… I want to _help _you. I promised, didn't I? And I never break a promise." She smirks a little, winking. "Especially not a pinky-promise. Therefore…" she says slowly, licking her pink lips thoughtfully, "Will you come back inside with me? I think you could do with a few allies; Shaw has them, after all. So why not you?"

After a nibble on her already short and uneven nails, Erika releases an elongated sigh and takes the remaining steps to join Charlene by her side. They start to walk together back toward the CIA building's entrance.

"I'm incredibly glad you decided to stay, Erika," Charlene says softly in her British accent as she walks the metalbender to her guest room. They stop in front of it, and Charlene smiles. "I'll see you in the morning; we have much work to do!" And with that, the telepathic girl gives a tensed Erika a quick hug, then walks away.

Erika is left feeling warmer than usual as she slips into her room, as if she can't shake the brief graze with Charlene's body heat. And it unnerves her intensely.


	3. III

_**III.**_

They decide to find mutants to join their G-men force in the CIA on their own. Hannah McCoy, a young scientist and fellow mutant, has designed this machine called Cerebro. It will enhance Charlene's talents, and help her and Erika find where the other mutants of the world are hiding.

They meet many people: a bouncer at a strip club who calls himself Angel, a mutant who has wings like a dragonfly and can spit acid; a taxi cab driver named Amanda who has gained the nickname Darwin due to her ability to adapt to anything; a young blonde girl at an all-woman prison who prefers solitary confinement because she thinks she is dangerous, and her name is Alexandra, but likes to be called Alex; and then there is Seana, who can project sonic waves from her mouth, her wavy strawberry-blonde hair blowing back and her freckles scrunching up as she does so.

They are an amazing group of people, each and every last one of them.

Ray comes up beside Charlene and gives her a hug. "You did it, sister," he teases, laughing. "Look at all the people we have to help us, now!"

Erika is less optimistic than the young blond man who hides his blue skin and red hair and yellow eyes. "They are hardly experienced at all, and this is the only the beginning. If we want to go up against Sebrina and her minions, then we have to get stronger, and more in control of our gifts." And with that, she stalks out of the room, leaving everyone else behind.

Ray turns to Charlene. "Want me to talk to her?" he asks. He transforms into a CIA agent. "Or perhaps _coax _her?" and he pounds a fist into his other hand, a smirk on his borrowed face.

"Ray!" Charlene scolds, smacking her brother's arm. "That is hardly appropriate!"

Ray shifts back, his smile fading. "I was only kidding," he replies in a mumble. He shakes his head and turns to Hannah, who blushes on sight. "I need to talk to Hannah about my blood, anyway. There could be use for my appearance-changing mutation." He waves and starts to walk toward the spectacled, pigtailed brunette. "See you later, Charley!"

"Yeah, yeah," the telepath retorts with a half-smile. She turns and walks again, headed in the direction Erika left in. The others they have gathered are relaxing in a lounge room with large windows and a mini-bar (mostly non-alcoholic) and complete with pinball games. She leaves them behind in search of her metal-controlling friend.

She finds the young German-Jew woman by herself, her knees drawn up to her chest where she rests against a wall in her dark guest bedroom. Charlene doesn't even knock; simply lets herself in, slipping past the wooden door and closing it behind her.

"What's wrong, Erika?"

"There's another war coming," the other woman retorts coldly. She looks up from her knees to send Charlene a frightening look, one that sends a shiver down the telepath's spine with how intense and grave it is, how _malicious. _"And I'm torn between desperately wanting to be a part of it and desperately wanting to run away from it."

Charlene opts to sit on the floor before Erika, her own legs in an open pretzel, her hands laced together and in the triangle of her lap. "I can understand that," Charlene agrees quietly. "But I don't think it will be a war, Erika. I believe that there will be conflict, yes, but not flat-out _war. _War means that both sides are parallel, and that they are aiming for a goal. That isn't happening here. Instead, we are getting rebellion and fear, but soon enough, I truly think there will be resolve."

"I'm not so sure," Erika scoffs in reply. "If anything, it will be a disaster. A disaster between mutants and humans for decades to come. I can practically _see _it happening, Charlene: another Holocaust all over again, humans wiping out mutants because they hate them and are afraid of the unknown. And this time, I am _not _going to be a victim. Once, and never again," she utters in a low, furious tone. Her hand idly moves to stroke the number on her left forearm, on the tender skin aligned with her palm.

Impulsively, Charlene's hands dart out and she tenderly grabs Erika's wrist, her other hand clasping the other woman's. "Erika, please!" she cries, her eyes locked with the other woman's, and her voice firm. "Don't think that way! We are going to do good, you and I. We have allies, _friends, _who will help us defeat Shaw and her gang of miscreants. And you won't need to feel like you're a victim again because we are going to have the humans see what good we can do after we stop Shaw, and they will come to accept us."

"What makes you think so, and have so much blind faith in their kind? Humans are inferior, Charlene. They will never be the better men."

"But we can be. We can be the better _women. _We can show them all," Charlene says passionately, and she leans in a bit, getting on her knees. "You will see, too, my friend. I can show you that we're in this together." And, before she can second-guess what her heart is telling her to do, Charlene presses onward and places her lips over Erika's.

Erika has been raped, not kissed. Erika has been tortured, not loved. Sebrina was like an evil stepmother after the heartless bitch killed Erika's father. Erika has never has a sister, or a true friend. She doesn't understand this, doesn't know why is feels safe (perhaps because Charlene is a girl and can't pierce her forcefully the way a man can? Perhaps because Charlene is understanding and helpful, unlike Sebrina Shaw?), or why it feels… nice. Comforting, gentle.

Erika's lips part and Charlene takes this evident relaxing movement as permission to start moving her lips over Erika's, bringing the slightly older woman closer and wrapping her arms around her.

Erika freezes again, making a muffled _mmf! _sound as her hands stiffen in Charlene's grasp, and she starts to breathe heavier when Charlene's breasts press against Erika's shins where the telepath leans over her. Her eyes flutter, and she finally gives in, exhaling through her nose and flicking out her tongue to taste the hints of vanilla lip balm on Charlene's lips. Erika brings her arms around the other brunette's back, and feels Charlene play with her hair in kind.

Erika's legs relax to side between Charlene's, and Charlene scoots closer, nearly in Erika's lap, as they continue to kiss, Erika's hands timid and unsure, Charlene's hands careful and caring.

When they finally part, their hearts racing and their breath coming out in little gasps, their gazes reconnect, and wordlessly, Erika asks, _What does this mean?_

_It means that I have all the more reason to keep my promise, _Erika hears in her head as a response, Charlene's voice just as clear as if she had spoken it aloud. _I will never leave you to be alone, Erika. I'm here for you. I _understand _you. And I don't know if you can feel it, but I care for you a great deal. I feel as though I've always known you._

Erika smiles wryly. "Only because you've been inside my head, Charlene. How very impolite of you to have that advantage."

Charlene laughs, a light, happy sound, and nods. She moves to rest beside Erika against the wall, her hand lacing their fingers together between them. "Touché, my dear. But you will get to know me soon enough. I am not a very complex person like yourself."

"I'd think not. You are quite boring," Erika teases with a serious, careless tone, "But I like you nonetheless."

"I'm glad," Charlene whispers, and with that, she leans in and gives Erika another peck on the cheek. The twenty-six year old smiles. "May I sleep in your room tonight? Mine is so far, and I think a game of chess would be lovely."

"I suppose I can allow that," Erika teases again, but this time, a smile tugs on her lips.


	4. IV

**A/N: I know this is wildly similar to the movie thus far, and I apologize. It's a lack of crativity, I know. And these chapters are short, I know. BUT THERE IS A REASON: I am building up to and recapping for the major changes that will occur later on. So be on the lookout for that, all right?**

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><p><em><strong>IV.<strong>_

They go on a very specific mission to find Ms. Shaw in Russia, Mark and some military men on their side. But it's a false alarm; instead of Shaw being there, it's her I'm-better-than-everyone-else cocky minion, Emmett Frost. He's another telepath, like Charlene, and he can alter the carbon in his body to make himself into diamond.

But Erika can't let this be. Shaw's right-hand man is just as good to her for part of her revenge as Shaw himself. It helps clear out some of the obstacles to getting back at the woman, anyway, and that's really all Erika cares about.

"Erika, wait!" Charlene calls out as softly as she can, while still being heard. "Just because you aren't truly CIA doesn't mean you can –"

"Don't even try to talk me out of this, Charlene," Erika snaps back, and then she's grinning, her teeth sharp and white, and she's turning and darting stealthily out of the line of trees to rush up to the building before them.

"Brash girl! She's going to get us killed!" Mark McTaggert grunts under his breath, and he stands to bring Erika back. "She's compromised the mission. We need to leave her."

"No, no, Mark; that isn't the way to do this! Please, I'll handle this," Charlene says swiftly, standing and dusting off her coat. She rubs her fingerless-gloved hands together and looks somber. "I can't leave her, even if all of you could. Please, don't wait long for us. Gather everyone up. We should rendezvous in thirty minutes, if all goes smoothly." She gives a curt nod, touches Mark on the shoulder as she walks by, and then moves to race after her dearest friend.

Some men are tangled in barbed wire – _that must be so painful!_ Charlene thinks before she dips into one man's mind to calm him and make him forget he saw her or Erika – and some are unconscious on the ground, their own guns used to knock them out, or their guns lacking magazine clips altogether.

Inside, she's able to catch up with Erika after passing by a string of groaning or unconscious men in uniforms. There is a private room, one with a bed, and a older woman – a leader of some sort, no doubt – giggling and touching at nothing where she sits in the bed. A quick peek into her mind reveals a mental illusion like one Charlene herself did recently on the way here.

"Neat trick," Charlene mutters. "You even make her think she feels you, Emmett. Clever." Shaking her head, she watches as Emmett rises and tussles his blond hair with one hand. He turns to diamond, and smirks at Erika – who is on edge, Charlene can tell – and the other telepath.

"All with practice, my dear," Emmett continues to grin. Charlene tries to delve into his mind, but Emmett has a shield up: his diamond form. "Don't even try to read my mind, pretty little thing. You won't get a whisper from me while I'm like this."

"Then we will have to resort to other means, won't we?" Erika growls, and she tackles Emmett, her skin bruising, but Emmett goes down because he is a slight man and Erika is an athletic young woman.

Erika holds him to the brass bedpost with her bending talents, and he struggles against it, still a diamond, but Erika simply stands, huffing a breath, and tightens the grip.

"I'd stop squirming if I were you, Telepath," the German-Jew woman sneers. "All that movement plus a little pressure will crack your form, and it would be such a same for such a large diamond to break to pieces, don't you think?"

"Erika, you wouldn't –!" Charlene interjects, stepping forward. She touches her hand to her friend's forearm, and the other brunette's face relaxes slightly.

"I _will, _Charlene, unless he starts talking, or lets you in. Either way works for me."

Charlene sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, and whips her head to the side to look Emmett in the eye where he's seated on the floor before them. "Please, Mr. Frost. Be a good lad and let me in before Erika hurts you." She doesn't want blood on Erika's hands, more than she knows already exists.

Emmett rolls his crystalline eyes, and finally shifts back to his human form. "Make it quick; I have a lot bigger fish to fry than you two or the U.S.'s Central Intelligence Agency."

Charlene closes her mouth, nods firmly once, and kneels before him. She touches a delicate digit to her temple, then another. She sees so much in the forefront of Emmett's head; nuclear war, radiation not affecting mutants the way it will affect normal humans, Shaw taking over as the first female dictator, death, destruction, resolve only in mutants wiping out humans or enslaving them.

"Awe-inspiring, isn't it?" Emmett quips smugly as he stares at them both.

Charlene gasps as she reels backward, her eyes wide, and her hands falling to her mouth. Erika is seated on the antique couch. "What? What did you see?" Erika mutters darkly. "Say it, Charlene."

"It's… it's worse than we imagined," Charlene whispers. She turns to look to Erika, and her eyes scan the other woman's. "We need to tell someone, and get Mr. Frost on the transport home." Charlene stands and clenches her fists at her sides, her manicured nails digging a bit into her palm. "Plenty is about to go down, and I must say, Erika, I am _terrified _of it."


	5. V

_**V.**_

When they return, the CIA base is in shambles.

Shaw and his other followers attacked, killing every human they got their hands on, and taking Angel with them, but killing Amanda. Hannah tells them with tears in her eyes what happened. She wipes her glasses a few times and Ray steps up behind her to comfort her once she's done retelling the events. She curls into him, giving into her sobs. Ray gentle pats her back and looks to his sister and Erika.

"We need to do something," he mutters. Swallowing, he glances down, then back up at them. "And we need you to guide us." And even he knows it, because he had been the one jokingly assigning nickname before, not taking any of this seriously – oh, Alexandra can be 'Havok,' or 'Infa-Red,' and Seana can be 'Siren' or 'Banshee,' and Ray himself can be 'Mysterio' or something of the like – but shit just got very, very serious. People are _dead. _

"Guide you? But we're only –"

Erika touches Charlene on the shoulder and gestures for the telepath to step off to the side with her for a second. Once out of earshot, Erika begins, "He's right. And we can lead them."

"They're only kids," Charlene murmurs, her face torn. "We can't expect them to –"

"They _were _kids, Charlene. But things are different now. And we can do this; we're not kids, either," Erika responds sternly.

Charlene looks into her friend's eyes, and slowly, she nods her head. "Yes. You're right." She inhales and exhales shakily, and turns back to the others. "We're going to have to train."

"But where can we go?" Hannah wails softly, trying to cease her tears. She sniffles and dabs her eyes. "Even if they rebuild the base… It won't be ready before the battle that's coming. We have nowhere to go."

Alex smiles. She leans back and folds her arms over her chest. "No, Hannah, I have a feeling Charlene knows exactly what to do. Right, Miss Professor?"

Charlene smiles. "Correct. We do have a place to go: my home in Westchester, New York."

Ray looks over Hannah's shoulder at his sister, and he grins. "This is going to be fun."


	6. VI

**A/N: This chapter is the main cause for the T rating, just so you are aware!**

**Also: includes some actual description of chess-playing, because chess is something I have always enjoyed and played against my father, and wanted to include somehow, since these two are known for it as men, so why not as women as well? X3**

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><p><em><strong>VI.<strong>_

It's tough work, training others. Seana learning to fly with gliders attached to her while she screams her sonic waves to propel herself; Hannah learning to deal with and use her odd, ape-like feet, as much as she hates them because, like any girl, she cares about her looks; Ray trying to get comfortable with his blue form and red hair, and learning to shift into others and mimic their habits even when he doesn't know them; Erika trying to find a different outlet than pain and anger to fuel her powers.

"Do you see that satellite dish out there? It would be lovely if it faced the house. It would help a lot more, especially when Hannah and I rebuild Cerebro," Charlene hints strongly as she leans over the railing and points at the object yards and yards away.

Erika looks between the dish and her friend. "I… You don't mean… You want me to _move _that? From this distance, and something that _big? _I would need the situation, the _fury _to do that! I can't –"

"You can't rely on such negative feelings all the time, Erika. There is more power in something positive than something negative; that's why our bodies mostly emit positive energy that over objects made of negative energy are attracted to. But what am I lecturing you for?" she teases, a smile playing on her kissable lips, "You know physics." She touches Erika and nods to the dish. "So what do you say? Give it a try?"

Erika sighs, but turns and does as instructed. She tries to think of nothing in particular as she attempts to move the far, heavy metal object. She turns bright red in the face from the exertion, but all she succeeds in making it do is vibrate, shaking a couple birds from its topmost rim.

Gasping for breath – she hadn't realized she had even been holding it – Erika collapses, her hands bracing her on the railing. "I told you, Charlene, I _can't!_" she pants in annoyance.

"Do you mind if I try something? Mentally, of course," Charlene says casually, taking a step closer and raising her hand to her temple.

Erika nods. "Sure. Whatever."

Charlene slips into Erika's mind as easily as water through sand. Inside, she touches something glowing with warmth; a memory is brought up, one of Erika as a little girl lighting a menorah on the fourth day of Hanukkah with her father smiling brightly at her.

Erika's eyelids flutter, and she starts to cry. She turns and faces the satellite dish, memory in the forefront of her mind, and she reaches out a trembling hand. Slowly but surely, the dish turns and faces the pair of them while tears silently leaves trails on Erika's cheeks.

When it's done, she laughs in surprise at herself, feeling like a million dollars had just been handed to her on a silver platter. "I did it, Charlene, I did it! Did you see that?" she laughs, and turns to look at Charlene. She finds tears on the other girl's face as well. She touches a hand to the telepath's jaw. "What's wrong?"

"It… was just such a beautiful memory, Erika. Thank you for letting me see it," Charlene whispers.

Erika smiles affectionately, her lips closed. "I didn't even know I still had that one left. So much was taken from me, so much simplicity and happiness." She sighs, looking away, her hand falling back to the railing. "I should be thanking you, really."

Charlene timidly places her hand over her friend's. "No need." She cocks her head to look into Erika's blue-green-grey, color-changing eyes. At the moment, they are green from the contrast of pink, puffy eyes. "I'm only glad that I could help you. Because, to me, somewhere between rage and serenity, there is trust and love and determination, and if you access all three in that midpoint, you an reach your true potential, Erika. One day, you will have a master control over your powers and a level of ability in them that no one, not even I, could match or come close to."

Erika looks deeply into her shorter friend's sky blue eyes. "You honestly believe that?" she whispers, and her stomach rolls with the odd sensation of having someone possess genuine faith in her; not using her or taking advantage of her.

"I do," Charlene nods, smiling a bit again as she wipes away the last of her tears, and reaches up to do the same for Erika, the pads of her thumbs brushing across Erika's high cheekbones. "Because there is more to you than hate and anger and pain; there is good in you, too. I felt it more than once. You're a strong individual, Erika, and I love that about you."

It might as well have been, 'I love you,' spoken plain and simple, for the way Erika feels right now. She launches herself forward, wrapping her arms around Charlene and holding the shorter woman tightly.

Charlene giggles breathlessly and returns the embrace. She kisses Erika's shoulder and rubs her back. Erika's A-cup chest oddly fits perfectly above Charlene's larger-sized one, and their heights enable them one to tuck the other against them. _It's like a puzzle,_ Charlene muses. _How cliché, yet appropriate. I wouldn't have this any other way. _And she only smiles broader, smuggling into Erika's sweatshirt.

"Hey, you two! President Kennedy is about to give his address!" mark hollers out the downstairs study's window, and immediately the two mutant girls break apart, blushing minutely, and follow one another back into the mansion.

That night, they play chess in Charlene's bedroom in front of the fireplace.

"You know that I intend to kill Sebrina Shaw," Erika murmurs stoically as she moves her rook across the board.

"I am well aware of your intentions," Charlene whispers, "And while I disapprove of them, I doubt we can settle this without Shaw dying in some way or another. Because as much as I would like her being locked up forever, I have a feeling she would escape."

"You know she would. She's a tricky bitch," Erika mumbles coldly. Charlene makes her move – choosing to use a pawn – and waits for Erika to take the bait. She forgoes it, and instead moves her same rook again, and Charlene frowns, because now her plan is ruined a little.

Sighing, Charlene moves her knight next in hopes of still eliminating one of Erika's pieces. She replies slowly, around her turn, "You do realize, however, that killing Shaw will not bring you inner peace, my friend. It might make you feel better about avenging your father's death, but in the long run, you are a murderer."

"So what if I am? Under the CIA's conditions, I won't get punished for it. And I don't care about peace, Charlene. Peace doesn't exist in this imperfect world. There are moments of peace, there can be peaceful works of art or song, but true peace between people or nations or races? Never. There is too much pain, too much doubt and judgment, and far too much sin for any of that," Erika retorts sharply, and she moves her queen. "Check."

Charlene had been so focused on her plan and the movement of Erika's rook every other turn that she hadn't noticed her queen. Shit.

Charlene moves her king over a space – the stupid marble royal is so useless at times – and rethinks her strategy.

"You can't say it isn't true, Charlene. I have a point and you know it. We're helping other mutants. We're saving people. But after this, what else? Things will turn ugly very quickly, you'll see," Erika warns, and she moves her queen again.

Charlene backs up her king, but finds she is cornered between the rook and the queen. If she moves one way, the rook will be within range for the move. But if she moves another two ways, the queen will have her. She has one option, but she already took it, and now she's in trouble.

"Checkmate," Erika mutters as she moves her queen forward. "You lose, Charlene."

Charlene stands and moves toward the fireplace. "I wish you wouldn't fight me on the future, Erika. You think you know how it will be, but you don't, and I have faith in humanity and its eventual acceptance of us. We can do great things if we have control over our gifts, and once humans see that, see what we can do, they won't fear us."

"But they could use us as Shaw used me, Charlene; can't you see that?" Erika responds quickly, standing from her chair as well. She comes up being Charlene and grips her shoulders, forcing her to turn away from the heat of the fire. Her eyes drill holes into Charlene's, and Charlene finds herself swallowing shallowly. "Please, see reason. Be realistic."

"Another time, Erika," the other woman answers calmly. She takes a step back, breaking the metalbender's hold. "For now, we should go to bed."

"I want to spend the night in your room," Erika demands more than requests. "Don't deny me a night of real rest, Charlene. You know I can't sleep well." _Not without you there to suppress my nightmares,_ she adds, and Charlene doesn't mean to pick it up, but she catches it nonetheless.

"I won't deny you that," Charlene murmurs. She gestures to her bed. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Erika nods, but instead of going to the bed, she starts removing her clothes, dropping them into her chair, and walking topless over to Charlene's wardrobe to grab a nightshirt. Charlene tenses, bewildered by Erika's lack of shame and a little too interested on her friend's visible skin. She tears her eyes away and starts to do the same, changing for bed, but choosing to remove her bra after her nightgown is over her body. She draws it out from under the cloth and tosses it into her hamper.

They climb into the bed from either side at nearly the same time. Once settled, Erika turns off the lights and turns the slams the gate over the fireplace shut from a distance, using all the metal in each object.

Charlene rolls onto her side, facing her friend, but it's Erika who wriggles nearer and touches Charlene's hair, brushing it idly with her jagged, uneven nails across Charlene's scalp. Charlene catches the other woman's hand and feels the nails in the dark.

"You still nibble them?" Charlene inquires, her accent not as noticeable when she whispers.

"Nervous, unbreakable habit," Erika grumbles in response. She removes her hand from Charlene's grasp and returns it to the smaller brunette's hair, playing with it. Her arm under the pillow slinks downward to curve behind Charlene's neck and touch her bare back under her nightgown. "Get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Charlene yawns, but refuses to shut her eyes just yet. She leans up and presses a kiss to Erika's chin, then her nose, then her lips. "No matter what happens tomorrow, we'll still have one another, won't we?" the telepath wants to know, her tone quiet and frightened.

Erika's heart melts and she brings Charlene into her. "Shh, of course, Charlene. I won't let anything happen to you. You're my one true friend, and I don't intend on losing you."

"Promise?" Charlene says with a hint of a laugh, her hand coming up between them, pinky finger outstretched.

Erika laughs quietly. "You are such a child at times, Charlene. But yes, I promise you." And she grips her friend's pinky with her own, kissing it, the action like sealing a letter with wax.

Erika, still linked at the pinky, pulls away enough to press another kiss to Charlene's mouth, and in seconds, the kiss turns into kiss_es, _and those kisses change from chaste to passionate, and in no time at all, the two are skin-to-skin, desperate for touch, reassurance, love, trust, pleasure…. _solace._

Charlene falls asleep last, waiting to see the beginnings of Erika's dreams to make sure that they are of their bond-forming deeds of tonight or of lovely memories from earlier in the day and not the usual nightmares. When she sees the right dreams playing in Erika's head, Charlene finally succumbs to sleep herself, bringing the covers up tightly over their naked bodies, the remains of their nightdresses somewhere at their feet, just barely skimming Charlene's toes.


	7. VII

_**VII.**_

It's a victory, isn't it?

This is what Charlene asks herself, quite faintly, a majority of her mind focused on the lingering pain of experiencing Sebrina Shaw's death (done in by a silver coin drilled right through her skull and out again) combined with the pain in her kneecap where a deflected bullet (now removed, thanks to Erika, but it's also thanks to Erika and Mark that it even got there) had lodged itself.

Erika is cupping her ungloved hand over Charlene's wound, trying to soothe her. "Shh, shh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you're going to be okay," like a mantra keeping Erika from crying.

Things hadn't entirely gone according to plan. The Russians and Americans in their fleets had fired at the mutants on the beach, fired at their broken submarine and crashed plane ("Hurry, Hannah, level the bloody plane!" "I hope Seana's all right, out there by herself…" "Let go of the sub now, Erika, and take my hand! Erika, please, _take my hand!_" "Damn that Hispanic woman. Riptide, is it? Yeah. Fuck her,").

Isolated in her mirrored cell, it was difficult to beat Sebrina. She was quick and cunning and strong, and she gave Erika quite the beating, broken glass shards in her forehead and hair, bruises underneath her yellow and blue uniform, cuts in the leather and spandex cloth.

She-Beast (Hannah's new nickname, given to her by Alex with a slight smirk on the blonde's face) rushes over, a blur of blue fuzz, trying to best with a first-aid kit from the fallen jet. Mark helps awkwardly, feeling like a daffodil among roses, as he's the only mutant around. He grips Charlene's hand tightly as she grunts and struggles, pain shooting through her leg.

Mysterio makes his way over to his fallen sister and kneels down, shooting first a glare and then a tender expression in Erika's direction.

Azraelle, a red, demonic-looking teleporter who worked under Shaw makes her way over, Angel (some of his dragonfly wings cropped short) and Emmett in tow; the other mutant, Riptide, limping and wounded, but continuing to stumble along after her coworkers.

"I can probably get everyone away from here," Azraelle says in her German accent. She offers a hand, her eyes a chilling blue, so much lighter than Charlene's baby blues. "And after that, we can go our separate ways."

Separate ways because Erika nearly send a whole horde of missiles toward a group of innocent men following orders. But in Erika's mind, they were no better than Nazis because they followed their orders to kill, and didn't question it. Plus, they are all _human. _

Suddenly, with a poof of blackish red smoke, they're all back in New York. Azraelle is truly talented that she can cross such a distance from memory. They're in the city, near a hospital.

Erika – No, not quite; more like _Magneta_ now – takes Azraelle, Emmett, Angel, and Riptide with her. Ray follows, giving his sister a quick peck on the cheek and murmuring 'mutant and proud' to Hannah one final time before joining. And then they teleport away, because Erika has different ideals and methods, and she carries so much guilt for wounding Charlene, the girl she loves, to the point where she feels the need to flee.

It takes Charlene a week in the hospital to recover and get a kneecap replacement, because her other one shattered. She rests up, receives physical therapy, and is walking with a limp and a cane in no time.

It's about half a decade later before Erika returns, only Ray with her.

Within those five years, however, Charlene finds that she has breast cancer. She is bald and pale when Erika sees her again. Charlene tries to tell Erika that this isn't her fault, and what once was her fault is nothing but a scar on her knee. But Erika feels guilty for not being here sooner.

"…Will you die?" Erika whispers, voice breaking with unshed tears as she clasps Charlene's hand in her bed in her mansion in Westchester.

Charlene smiles. "I'm a telepath, not an oracle. I can't tell the future, my friend. But I will say this: I truly have forgiven you, even for leaving, and my feelings for you haven't changed."

"You still love me?" Erika says around a nibble on her bottom lip. "But how? How, when I…" And she grinds her teeth, looking away, feeling nothing but a weighted ache in the center of her chest.

"Do you love me?" Charlene asks as if it were the simplest question in the world. Her voice is weak. She's in her thirties and she already feels as frail as an old woman of her eighties.

_You know I do,_ Erika thinks strongly, her throat closing up as if Emmett's diamond fingers were squeezing her vocal chords. _I have never been close to anyone, loved them, as much as I am to you. Not even my father, and that is saying a lot._

_Then please, Erika, if you love me, you'll understand that my having breast cancer isn't your fault. It's the way my mother died. But don't think I'm giving up; I plan on living through this for the sake of more people than myself._

"You should live for yourself as well, Charlene," Erika says almost threateningly. "Don't be a martyr."

Charlene laughs without humor. "Oh, my dear. I've always been the martyr, and you know it."

"You fool," Erika whispers, and she leans down and presses a kiss to Charlene's dry, chapped lips. Charlene smells of chemicals and hospital, sanitary and sickly. But Charlene is Charlene, and Erika feels her eyebrows quiver and a tear slip down her own cheek as she kisses the telepath. "But no more. I will be here for you, now, and you _are _going to live through this, even if I have to threaten the lives of each and every doctor here."

"…Please, Erika, no more killing. Hospitals are riddled with death and wounds without you causing more of each," Charlene croaks, and reaches for her water on the bedside table. Erika grabs it for her and tips it into her mouth.

"Fine, no more. But that doesn't mean I agree with it. You're too soft on others, Charlene. You need to be more of a bitch to make things happen. Like a cure for you besides this blasted experimental chemotherapy. What if it affects your mutation?"

"…On the contrary, the radiation of it had made me stronger mentally," Charlene says after a long moment. "I can do more, hear more, and at a greater distance or at a deeper level. And because of that…" She offers a small smile that nearly breaks Erika's heart, "I truly believe that I'll live through this."

The metal-controller grips Charlene's hand tighter, a silent, _I hope so._


	8. VIII

**A/N: Bahh, I'm done with this plot bunny; it got away from me. So there's this little drabble to wrap things up. Whatever. I'm moving onto other things, now; more drabbles, more slash, and more X-Men: First Class canon!verse. X3**

* * *

><p><em><strong>VIII.<strong>_

When Charlene slowly blinks her eyes open, she's at home, in bed, and it feels like just another day, but she feels that something is wrong. _Off._

She sits up, struggling a bit, and forces herself out of bed. On her head is fuzz. Her hair is growing back. And she feels… stronger inside, but something is ruining this obvious step toward full recovery.

And he realizes: it's because she can't hear anyone's thoughts.

She wanders the mansion, but no one is home. She goes into Cerebro's bubble of a room and slips it on. She finds them, her family: they're out doing errands, and some of her students are on a field trip to a museum with Hannah McCoy at their head.

Erika is the first one to arrive home.

She immediately comes to Charlene's side and embraces her, proud of her for getting out of bed and overjoyed at the hair growth as she runs her hand over the fuzz.

And, to themselves, they think only how it can get better from here.

And it does. Charlene lives. Erika regrets, but pushes onward. And even though a sort of war erupts between mutant and humans, Charlene finds a way to bring things together again, at least with duct tape before she can fully mend it. And all the while, Erika tries her best to be there for her lovely telepath, because, after all, she can't break her promise.


End file.
